


Days of Whine and Roses

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: AU, Alternate Universes, Angst, First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:56:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loose lips can sink relationships, but getting drunk turns out to be one of the best moves Jim could make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days of Whine and Roses

## Days of Whine and Roses

by Silk

Author's website:  <http://www.angelfire.com/ny4/tinsel/>

All things Sentinel belong to Pet Fly and Paramount. Not me. Not for profit either.

Thanks to everyone at MME, but especially Lisa and Patt for bringing me aboard this special project right at the beginning. Special thanks to Mary and Tinnean for beta work.

This story was originally posted as part of The Many Faces of Jim ezine at the My Mongoose Ezine website. A version of the story with graphics can be seen at: http://www.geocities.com/my_mongoose/days_of.htm

* * *

Days of Whine and Roses 

By Silk 

"I can't believe you fucking did that, man." 

"Did what?" I tried to focus my eyes, but the whole room seemed to be blurry. "Do I wear glasses, Chief?" 

"No, Jim, you don't. And don't change the fucking subject!" 

"What subject? What were we talking about?" 

"What you did, man." 

"What did I do?" 

I couldn't tell, but I had the vague feeling that Sandburg was pissed off about something. Maybe it was the way his mouth was pursed together so tightly, it looked as if any more pressure would make his face fly apart. Eww...not a pretty picture. 

Especially not on a stomach that had been abused like mine. 

Oh, yeah, it was all coming back to me. That's why Sandburg was pissed off. He had to get out of bed in the middle of the night to come collect me at the police station. 

Oh, not cause I was working. Cause I was drunk. I ended up at the PD cause I had a minor disagreement with the bartender. Over the tab. He thought I owed one, and I didn't. 

Simon vouched for me. The bartender dropped the charges once he found out that I was a cop. That should have been the fucking end of it. But no... 

You know, sometimes Sandburg reminded me of a dog. A terrier. They're the ones that latch onto your pant leg and won't let go, aren't they? I mean, I bet a guy could practically do the hokey pokey and those dogs would just be swinging around in circles. 

Ugh, circles. Another bad idea. Between the blurry vision and the headache and the heaving stomach, I felt incapacitated. 

"Sandburg, help-" 

"Jim? Jimmmm!" 

* * *

"You fucking idiot," Sandburg murmured under his breath. He probably assumed that I was way past hearing anything. But he was wrong. 

My senses were turned up so high, I couldn't stand it. No wonder I felt so fucking awful. My head lolled to the side, completely out of my control. But the worst was-I was drooling. I could feel it, this tiny bit of spittle seeping from the corner of my mouth. All I wanted to do was lick it away, but I couldn't convince my tongue to cooperate. 

Sandburg was frowning. Did he know how adorable he looked when he frowned? To my horror, that was exactly what came out of my mouth. "Do you know how adorable you look when you frown?" 

Oh, thanks. None of my bodily functions were online except for speech now. And that came out crystal clear. 

"Ador-Jim, you had even more than I thought!" 

Suddenly I realized that I was lying on my back in the middle of my bed. How did I get there? I didn't remember the ride home. Hell, I didn't even remember the ride in the elevator. 

Sandburg was undressing me. 

Waitaminute! Run that by me again! Sandburg was undressing me? 

His solid, well-shaped hands worked at my clothing almost dispassionately. If it weren't for the constant muttering under his breath, I would have thought he wasn't paying a bit of attention to the skin he was uncovering. 

Warning! Warning! Danger! Intruder in enemy territory! My senses were going haywire at the feel of his hands on my hips. I jerked away from him somehow and he blinked sleepily at me. 

"Jim, I have to take your pants off. You can't sleep in your pants." 

No, no, no. Must not remove pants. Pants good. Shit, I was incapable of thought beyond monosyllables and two word phrases. But one thought was paramount in my drunken brain. My pants were hiding a very big secret. 

"Please, Chief," I begged with my eyes. Sandburg looked startled, as if there was a message there he had recently discovered. A message only he could decipher. 

His hands moved away, patting my hips almost absently. "Okay, Jim," he said, as if he understood. 

Maybe he wouldn't be pissed off anymore by morning. 

Maybe he was never pissed off at all. 

* * *

When I woke up, it was almost dawn. Sandburg was asleep in the chair. I studied him for a few precious seconds before he shook off sleep. His eyes opened and caught my reckless scrutiny. Our eyes held for the longest time before he broke the silence with a hoarse whisper. 

"I wasn't angry, Jim. I was worried." 

"I know." 

"You're...um...really important to me." 

"Same here." 

As if abruptly aware that he might be neglecting his Guide duties, he inquired, "How are your senses? Still out of whack?" 

I nodded. "But how did you know? I never told you." 

He stood up and approached the edge of the bed. "Jim, I know lots of things that you never told me." 

His hands, so strong and capable hours before, fluttered at his side. There was a moment coming, a moment that we could both feel, and I only hoped that I wasn't too drunk to appreciate it. 

"Chief? I'm having a bit of a sensory spike here. Could you help me out? Please?" 

"Sure, Jim." 

He sat down on the bed, his hip touching my leg. "Which sense is it?" 

Resisting the temptation to say, All of 'em, I whispered, "Touch." 

"Dial it down, man." 

"I can't." 

"What do you mean, you can't? The dials have always worked before. What's wrong?" 

Ignoring the question, I concentrated what feeble mental power I had on Sandburg. Though I had reason to doubt the quality of the information my senses were returning, I could tell one thing. Sandburg wasn't anxious. He was excited. 

Well, well, would wonders never cease. I had a mind to make him feel a helluva lot more than that. 

"I need you to ground me, Chief." 

"Ground you? How? My voice has always worked before. Why isn't it working now?" 

"Because my senses are so far out of range, Chief. I need you to bring me back." 

"Jim, you're _not_ zoning." 

"Yes, I am. You just can't see it." 

"That's ridiculous. You're talking to me. You can't be zoned." 

"Oh, shit, Chief. Stop arguing with me and come over here." 

"Over where, Jim?" 

The little prick was making me beg. He knew what I wanted. "Christ, Chief, you know how fucking repressed I am!" 

Fuck, there were tears in my eyes. That's what I got for getting drunk. Getting in touch with those feelings had a price. 

He stared at me intently, the smoky blue of his eyes slowly disappearing, only to be replaced by the blackness of his pupils as they dilated. I couldn't think about it anymore. I grabbed one of his hands and turned it over, palm up. His mouth opened as he watched helplessly. I closed my eyes and kissed his palm at the same time. 

"Thank you," I whispered. For allowing this. For taking care of me. For making me the most important thing in your life. If he never returned my feelings, I was grateful for this much. 

"For what?" 

"For this." 

"Jim," Sandburg began, stopping seconds later. He rubbed his cheek against my hand. That's when I realized that I was still holding his hand. "I would do anything for you." 

"Anything?" 

His restless motion ceased. He looked directly into my eyes and said, "Anything." 

"Are you sure about this? Cause there's no going back if-" 

Sandburg chuckled softly. "Jim, you didn't just get drunk, you got stupid. I want this. Probably more than you do." 

"Oh, no," I said, pulling him closer. His body settled comfortably against mine, I wondered why I ever thought this could feel anything but right. "You couldn't want this more than I do." 

"Is that why you got drunk?" 

I sank both hands into his hair and kissed him. When we finally broke apart, I said, "This is why." 

Sandburg sighed heavily. "So the only way you could confront the fact that you wanted to fuck a guy was to get drunk. I'm not surprised, but I'm not flattered either." 

He wasn't. He sounded heartbroken. What did I do wrong? Oh, God, it didn't matter whether I was drunk or not. I still couldn't make him understand. 

"It's okay, Jim," he said sadly. "I can take care of this, too. Like I always do." 

Before I could choke out another word, Sandburg had moved down the length of my body, his hand caressing the burgeoning arousal trapped inside my pants. When he unzipped my pants, I gasped, but I couldn't protest the feel of his fingers against my cock. It throbbed within his grasp as if it were a separate part of me. 

All at once his mouth engulfed me. I was so close, I couldn't hold back. I barely shuddered and came, flooding his mouth with bitter fluid. 

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Sandburg looked tired. Pasting an obviously false smile on his face, he said, "Glad I could help you out, Jim. Why don't you go back to sleep?" 

Part of me was relieved. There would be no confrontation now. It would come later. When I had regained control of my senses, not to mention the rest of me. 

Part of me was ashamed. This was using Sandburg, plain and simple. It was cheating, too, because it wasn't what I wanted from him. Correction. It wasn't the only thing I wanted from him. 

"Chief-" 

"Go to sleep, Jim." 

I had to make him listen to me. "Blair-" 

At the sound of his given name, his body jerked as if struck. "Don't, Jim. Please. I don't want to talk about this." 

"Well, I do." 

"Fuck you, Jim. Fuck you and what _you_ want." 

He was crying. I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I had seen Sandburg cry. After losing Maya. After the fountain. After the dissertation fiasco. Fuck, I never knew I was _that_ fucking important. 

With great effort, I managed to sit up, all by myself. My head pounded like a jackhammer, but I consciously fought for control. I had to dial it down. Had to. Or I would lose Blair. 

"Blair, listen to me cause I don't know if I can say this more than once. I love you." 

"Yeah, yeah, Jim. Whatever. You don't have to lie to me. It wasn't _that_ good a blowjob." 

"I'm not lying and you're right. It wasn't that good a blowjob." 

"Gee, thanks, Jim. You're making me feel _so_ much better." 

"I mean, it wasn't good enough for me to lie about how I feel." I grabbed Sandburg's arm and he looked apathetically down at my hand, as if he were studying which fingers would leave imprints on his skin. 

I stood up, albeit shakily, and Sandburg caught me. Against his will, no doubt. Part of him probably wanted nothing more than to see me hit the floor and break my nose. 

I cupped my hands on his shoulders, feeling the silken ends of his hair trailing across my knuckles. He looked almost scared. Suddenly so was I. 

I bent my head to his ear, my lips barely brushing his skin. But my senses were still tuned so high, I felt it everywhere. "I love you, Blair." 

When he moved to pull away, I was ready. I braced my legs wide apart for balance and held onto him for dear life. Because that's what he was to me. Dear life. 

His blue eyes shimmering with tears, he said, "I'm not here to scratch your itch, Jim. I fucking love you." 

"Good. Cause I fucking love you, too." 

"But-" 

I kissed him. "And I will keep telling you as many times as I have to. Till you believe me." 

"If I say I believe you, could we practice this kissing thing some more? Cause I'm not sure you're doing it right." 

I framed his face with both hands before taking his mouth in a possessive kiss that frankly surprised the hell out of me. My tongue slid between his lips and I stopped thinking about dialing down my senses. I wanted to feel all of this. Every last little bit. 

"Jim? Jim? You're zoned for real, man. Come back, Jim. Come back to me." 

"I'll always come back to you, Blair. I love you." 

"I know, man. I know." 

"I don't know if we're ready for fucking yet," I blurted out. Afraid to look at Blair, I leaned my forehead on his. This was what I wanted. No, needed. The freedom to touch him at will. 

He stroked my face with his thumb. It was such a tiny gesture but so significant. Like the gentle kiss that followed. "I love you, Jim. We can go as slow or as fast as we want. Cause no one else matters." 

I relaxed against Blair. "Just you and me, Chief." 

"Always, Jim." 

My fingers threaded through his long, beautiful hair. "I don't think Simon expects to see me at work today." 

"Feeling a little under the weather, Jim?" 

My hands slid a little lower on his body, cupping and massaging his buttocks. Spreading my legs slightly, I pulled Blair into the space I made for him. He fit. Just like I'd always known he would. 

"What say we both go back to bed?" I whispered against his mouth. 

"Together?" 

"Is there any other way for us?" 

* * *

When I woke up again, it was around noon. This time I wasn't alone. I had an angel in my arms. 

Sunlight spilled through the skylight, setting fire to his dark brown curls. He was so beautiful- 

\--and he was mine. 

End 

* * *

End Days of Whine and Roses by Silk: silkn1@worldnet.att.net

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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